


Act 1: Questionable goal

by LazyShadow



Series: Fragmented Echoes. Chapter 1: Undeground hell [1]
Category: Splatoon
Genre: Horror, Humans, Madness, Octo Expansion DLC, Tratiors Hall, Twisted story, openff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-07-18 07:21:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16113572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazyShadow/pseuds/LazyShadow
Summary: Humanity has fallen. The only survivors continued to exist deep underground for two decades... working in terrifying conditions, dying from a single mistake....But one day something went wrong... terribly wrong. Everyone is gone...place is abandoned...and why the hell do I have tentacles on my head?!





	1. Awakening to nowhere

Emptiness is all around me, with only the earth under my feet and not a single living soul in sight. The beautiful silence is interrupted only by a rare gust of whistling wind. Peace shrouds me in fog, removing all past stress and tension. How do I lack this; something as simple as a little silence and tranquility?

How do I get away from this crappy routine and go dance with life on the ever-busy streets of some big city, go get some drinks, a girl for a night and…

My stream of happiness and dreams is suddenly interrupted by the emerging sun. It radiates darkness, taking the light away, pulling some vile tentacles towards me… it’s calling me to itself, just to drag me back into cruel, grey, unpleasant reality… and I can’t resist it. I can’t move…I’m paralyzed. All I can do is scream in despair. “No…no-no-no—NO! I won’t go back! I don’t want it! Let me go… I don’t want to spend my life there… please…! I JUST! WANT! TO! LIVE!” But it can’t hear me. It can’t. it’s only here to drag me back. Every fucking day and night… 

But this time something goes wrong. Terribly wrong...

I wake up myself; no alarms, just the buzz of an old lamp - strange. Pain encases my entire body. My head is killing me, everything brules in the eyes - I feel sick and way to lazy to get up. All signs of a hangover - I’m sure of it. Just what the hell did I commit myself into yesterday to wake up in that state, hm? Sigh, I bet I was at a party - the best thing to do in this shithole. A special fucking opportunity to get drunk and avoid the death penalty for drinking. Fuck yeah! Sigh. Just gotta be sure NOT to be late on the next job or - well - you’re dead. Best case scenario, the Professor will shove a fucking stick in your ass… a heated, metal stick at that.

Мать твою, head! Can you hurt just a little bit less, I’m trying to think here. Well…the first, and the most obvious reason for my headache - yesterday I was partying hard until the very last bottle of booze: everything still blurring in eyes, legs… ah, perfect - my legs out of order/ unresponsive. At least I am lying in a clean, dry bed and not in my own vomit.   
“Darling…I would love to stay and lie still on you for a while, but…” I barely scribbled myself and grabbed my hand for the edge.   
“You know better than me: who does not work, he does not live.”

I pull myself closer to the edge and grabbed it with my second hand. One more push and I fell to the ground. Grunting like some old man I’m start trying to rise, using the bed as a support and motivating myself vocaly: “…come on Richard. Get your lazy old ass up!...until its start to starve to death. And you don’t want that, I know.”

Success. I’m up. My vision slowly came back to normal and I appreciating the room I’m currently in. The walls are cracked; the wallpaper is faded, torn off and sometimes absent at all; everything’s old. The verdict - I'm at home. I can breathe a sigh of relief - in this shithole, I can walk with my eyes closed. Ok...stop looking at the walls. I need to put myself in order and go to work. 

Attempts to walk with my own two legs have failed – I fell at the very first attempt to get up. Looks like I’ll have to crawl to the bath on all fours, like a dog or a cat under valerian.

Upon reaching my “destination”, with all my heart I appreciated the fact that I have toilet and bath in the same bloody room. Ok, back to business. I crawled to the "white throne" and immediately vomited in his "very soul", after which I used it as a support to stand up. Perfect…now, next on the list is - Yes. Sink in sight. The Mirror is shattered, distance – 2.5 m. I mumble displeased:“Ooh…Challenge accepted, you rusty peace of pottery with broken mirror!”

From the outside it probably looked very ridiculous and funny. Maybe it would make a good video with the title like“drunk as fuck man talking to the bathroom”. Ha-ha...very funny. Not.  
I inhaled deeply, pulled out my free hand, and made a dash in the right direction, catching both hands on the sink, and hanging onto it. I do not know how miraculously this thing was, but it managed to hold my weight. I quickly took the normal position and turned on the water. 

No hot water, only cold, orange water.  
I roar, cranking cranes furiously: “ An elite research complex capable of withstanding a nuclear war, yet NO ONE can fix the goddamn pipes! Fucking Suka, как же меня заебало это неработающее дерьмо! Fine! I’ll use your shit water...”

 

I rinsed my face and my head - water is disgusting, but at least I feel myself better somewhat better. Well, taking a shower is pointless – we had a “water problem” over here and washing myself in orange admixture of rust and god knows what - that won’t make me any cleaner, that’s for god damn sure. Na, here’s a better idea - I’ll just dipped my head into the sink and turned on the water. 

Yep! That will fix me up in no time. In this position, I’m standing for about 5 minutes now, until the crane began to monotonously scold me, pointing to the lack of water. Perfect! Just fucking - заебись какой - perfect! No water now and next on the list – no electricity. God, I have to get on the job asap!

After pulling my face from that “shower” I shook my head and... just noticed from the corner of my eye that there was something stuck to my hair. I’m trying to find this trash and remove it with my hand, but with each movement, I slowed down, my face becoming more and more distinctly shocked and confused. Wha…the hell, I got no hair! Where is - what is this? Something alive, warm and feeling natural. With my fingertips I felt for the tip of this something and lowered it to my eyes for consideration. 

It was….a tentacle? What? Twitching, reacting, one side white, the other pink. Wait a sec - is that tentacles on MY head?! Nonsense! I double checked it with skepticism. But…I feel four of those things growing on my head! Sigh. I really could use a mirror right now, to make sure that I’m not turning into some kind of mutant! No, really, what are those tentacles even doing on MY head?! How is this even possible damn it?! I never asked to turn my head into a hentai simulator! On the other hand, they look long enough to be used as a limb…ah fuck it, I’ll deal with it later, my job is waiting!

Remembering about all the possible ways they can execute you for getting late is starting to make me panic lightly. I finally started to walk like a normal, sober person and quickly moved back into my room to reach the wardrobe. And here’s a new surprise – my normal clothes are gone and what’s left is the standard Kamabo Corporation “Fuck You” form. That’s what we called it. I like the name, but not design: Black latkes - no one likes it. I hate it personally. But, I am not gonna walk around naked, so this will do. There are also id bracelets and some strange looking backpack, filled with some kind of pink goo. I’ll put it on, just in case. Now I am ready to work in shame. Let’s go.

I rushed out of my “apartment” and was ready to run to the train, but my half drunk brain stopped me. Eyes tensed, I peered into the corridor. Strange - all the rest of the doors are sealed, the lighting is weak, many lamps are blinking. Dust. Ok. I can understand many things: the end of the world, the last people on earth, the lack of hands and food, bla-bla-bla. But this is unacceptable! The amount of dust is like in a factory, where one can only walk in a respirator! And I don’t have one! I started to walk with a cough and heaviness of breathing. As I walked closer to the end of the living area, the environment begins to become more - I dunno - ordinary.

The security guards cottage was demolished tho - only fragments of metal lying around. The metal door dividing the living areas is smashed; the surveillance cameras do not show signs of life. I paused at the door and examined the edges of the walls to which it was attached. No amount of repairs can help here.   
I moved to the next area and turned aside. Even after drinking, my memory does not fail me - the map is in place; more precisely, what is left of it. “You are here” - the pointer pokes at a white dot on a colorless piece of paper. Excellent - it’s useless. With a sigh, I turned and went back to the central line of the corridor, under the lamps. 

Well, I’ve got two options here: Cross all four living areas or cut through the cafeteria and quickly slip through the technical tunnel to the station. After some simple thinking I chose option two and moved as quick as I can in this dusty shit hole to the Cafeteria. Sign, indicating the right door was barely holding and was ready to fall any minute. The door opened only partially, something propped it. Without second thought I rammed it…again…and again. On third try the door opened completely, and I flew in with inertia into the big room and looked around. That does not look good.

Tables are skewed; everywhere is the barracks and again - not a single. Living. Soul. And dust. Where is everyone dammit? It feels like this place was abandoned for a long – long time. I stood on all fours and already wanted to see what was blocking the passage, but from the corner of my eye I noticed something on the ceiling and looked there. What I saw is dozens of skeletons with clothes of varying degrees of depravity, hung on cables that were attached to large iron beams. They like new year's toys! Well that’s a lot of dead people! The professor would be happy… That explains why…I shake my head, tossing away that idea. No, it explains nothing! What kind insane psycho did this? Why? Did he intend to waste time and make this place even more creepy? Well in that case he succeeded, ‘cause just by looking at these cold remnants of the Human race I feel uncomfortable.

Well, looking at this mess brings me nor fear nor shock; not even “WTF IS THIS?!” question. I dunno. It just feels wrong. It looks wrong...just like my hair, my job. Come to think of it, everything in my life for the past 20 years is WRONG. Yea, thinking about right and wrong won’t get me anywhere, I need to find a way out and continue walking to the train station. Alright, let’s look around.

After short observation of this dark place I came up with almost nothing: distant parts of the room are not illuminated, but there is a table lamp pointing at something. I came closer and spotted a drawing, partly illuminated by this lamp. Interesting. I unfolded it to view the drawing. 

To the left was a man. From him there was an arc arrow to another person, but he had strange hair. From him, the same arc arrow, directed to the first person. Between these hands was a telephone. What could possibly this mean? That the psycho was mentally retarded and tried to draw the principle of a phone? Well that does not explains, why the second man has this strange - tentacle - hair. Sigh. “For fucks sake, can somebody fucking explain to me what this is even supposed to mean?! Is this some kind of sick joke?! You do know how they punish people for wasting time!”

My furious cries echoed through the empty corridors. No one replied. There was no one to reply. And I keep looking at this “art”, overwhelmed by the feeling that this is some kind of message - a warning or an attempt to say something that I do not yet know. But who cares? I took the lamp and lit up the dark parts of the room in search of an exit. Here it is. I moved there, still glancing at the ceiling. God, I feel sick at the sight of this - this...whatever is this.

Leaving the cafeteria, I exhaled with little relief and moved along the empty corridors, towards the descent into technical tunnel. Questions and attempts to give a logical explanation to all this forced out alcohol, but not a feeling of tension. It only strained the brain more, forcing it to think. I reached the descent into the technical tunnel, but here's the ill luck - the door is welded tight!  
“Fuck!”- I roared at the door, banging it fiercely. “Fine, I'll just have to go further down the corridors! Thank you, whoever weld this bloody thing! ” I said to myself and moved on, picking up the pace. Had to make a detour to get back to the entrance to the cafeteria, but from here I can directly reach the station, and then we'll figure it out.

As I moved through the last living area and the transition to the Lobby, I began to notice the traces of bullets on the walls, the blood and...corpses. This makes me uncomfortable. I would love to believe that this is some kind of prank, but I know this is impossible for a variety of reasons:  
1) Pranks ≠ job. And who does not work, he does not live. The one fucking rule we all fear and respect!

2) Overlapping the passages, sabotaging the lighting, damaging the walls...hell, taking out the guard's booth and the door! Someone’s gonna die for that.

3) Intentional destruction of the ceiling and erection of barricades.

And here is point three in a “very” interesting manner. The lateral corridor is completely blocked by a mesh fence - nah - the fence is fucking welded to the walls. The ceiling is collapsed, some kind of pinkish liquid drips from a dangling pipe. Hm… it looks just like the stuff in my backpack. This liquid is spread over half the corridor. There were only two light sources: a lamp on that side and a littered desk lamp illuminating the wall...and a picture on it. After rolling my eyes, I lifted the lamp and looked at the drawing. Wow, we’ve got instructions here, with numeration. How cute. So…

Step 1: A man with a tentacles...what, again? Why everything here is obsessed with its anime stuff? Think, Ricky, think. I’ll just call this “guy” an Asshole. So, Asshole runs.

Step 2: He dive into a puddle that surrounded the fence. Strange.

Step 3: He...swims over the fence? I don’t get it. How is that? Is there a hole or something? Fine…

Step 4: He emerges from it.

Step 5: Just a smile face…

Very informative. I once again "read" this laconic tutorial and moved the lighting to the fence itself, looking at this pink slime. I do not know why, but she attracted me with her appearance, beckoned to her, and in my head a strange instinct seemed to awaken, and began to whisper:   
“Yo, you see that shit? That shit is your best friend right here, called ink. No fucking doubts here, man! It will heal ya, it can revive ya...y'all remember man. Now don’t be a pussy and sail away.”

Well… Honestly I got no other options, and my first signs of a mental disorder speak quite convincingly. Let’s give it a try. I cautiously went into this color something and immediately left "under the water" with a head. The environment acquired a pink tint, sensations and perceptions changed dramatically to non-transferable. Everything looked and felt as if you had merged with this liquid ... with this ink? Uh...that’s confusing. But I can perfectly see her limits, the environment. And why do I thinking about it, as her? Probably it’s because of the color. 

I see a fence above myself and start slowly swim under it. And it does not seem somehow alien, quite the contrary - everything is so natural and pleasant that I'm here a little bit in the whoa effect from what is happening. Just think of it: you can merge with a fluid of unknown origin and swim across an obstacles just like that. Sounds crazy, right? Just as crazy as that cafeteria and…well, everything so far. 

Shit I just noticed! I can breathe in this stuff - that was so exciting, that I lost my track of movement, accidentally emerging from this...ink, and immediately hit the fence with my head. Fuck! That’s hurt. Sigh. I lifted my hand and rubbed my bruised forehead, then submerged back and swam through this metal obstacle. On the edge of this slime, I seemed to be pushed out of it. I quickly retreated to the wall and examined myself - no traces of liquefies, chemical burns or something that went beyond the normal. Even clothes still on me…untouched. I would not be offended if it disappeared in this ink. Hmm...and the forehead does not hurt anymore. 

Okay, I do not know what happened here ... and what happened to me, but I liked the ink stuff. Wait a second…why I call this stuff ink? I do not know the composition of this garbage! Call it ink, just because your inner voice said so? Well, I don't see the point to disagree.

I gave to this strange tutorial corridor my last look and continue to walk towards the station. It should be nearby. But something tells me, that this is not gonna be easy. Bullet holes and traces of blood on the walls again, floor in the cracks and there is a blood trail, leading somewhere ahead. This is unnerving. Just what the fuck is going on here - and how many times did I ask that question to myself already? Irrelevant…I need to think and move. 

The trail has let me to the door near staircase and the lift. Door was slightly opened with a title – traitors’ hall. I opened it, with expectation of something terrible, but I saw something far worse that I can imagine in my worst dreams. 

There was a handmade pillars from scrap - around 12-14, maybe more. And each one of them had god damn fresh corpse attached to it with a small pool of blood near them. I can’t fucking believe what I’m seeing here! I.. I slowly take a couple of steps forward, focusing of victims. Just of curiosity and no sense of self preservation with a little laugh, just to make myself even more nervous. This is so wrong, so fucked up.

I looked at one of them…Ah?! Mother of fucking nerfed Mercy…It- it. A human?! No-no-no. Look closer. It look almost like human, but changed! He look like a sick mix between blue and green colors with elven ears and tentacles on their heads. Realization struck me. Do I look like th-t-t-these mutants?! Oh hell no-o-o! This is so wrong on SO MANY fucking levels…I just hope they are dead.

I Know this is a cliche move of a brain every dead teenager from a horror movie, but I’ll touch the body jus to make sure and - a flash of pain struck and pushed me away. All the corpses came back to life with lights emitting out of their eyes and mouths! With a painful howl they tried to break free…while looking at me. I started to scream in panic and run away…deeper into this hall. But the pillars never ended! There were more and more and MORE of them with the same twisting …screaming…undead bodies!

I slipped and fell into the ground, looking into screaming madness, losing hope. Fear already drowned out my cries…Pain infected my brain. And… I started to hear…Their Fury...their Sorrow...their Joy… their End with no will. I lost myself in it...lost control, any sense of my actions. All i saw...all i felt…is them. They want me, to join them...share their fate and find peace into lies of sanitization. But it all ended fast...with a sound of broken stairs and painful hit to the ground.

 

Observation suspended…  
File 10K8V3_C1A1p1 is complete…  
Awaiting new file….


	2. Part 2: Rise to madness

Darkness is all around me and I am drowning in it. I can't see or feel anything... only hear distant, familiar voices. I don't understand them... and I don't want to. Why would I do that? There is no point trying to listen to echoes of the past. It's only the voices of the dead and those cursed to die slowly, locked deep in the underground. Maybe it's better to embrace the darkness and leave this ugly world of pain... to join the ranks of those who stand on the other side. Come to think of it, that doesn't sound that bad.

Hm, I see something...yes, I can see the light above me. Something suddenly stops this descent and grabs me, starting to pull me back.... All voices cried out in despair but one... one unknown to me. I can hear it more clearly every second. It's repeating itself... calling my name...calling for me to wake....up, "wake...up...wake up. Wake up! Wake Up, Octoling!"

A blinding light and the sound of a lightning strike brought me back to consciousness. I was in pink, inky goo, pieces of my backpack floating around me. I looked up. There's a giant hole in the ceiling. I look around. I am in the middle of some kind of service room, and there are no possible sources from where that ink could've come from. I think I get it, I broke my backpack from falling, and the ink inside it saved my live...how convenient. But here's a question...what was that in...traitors hall? Those undead bodies, my acting...how the hell did I even end up here? And where the hell am I? I need to get out of- what the?!

Someone grabbed me by the tentacles and pulled my head out of the ink! Who the fu...oh, hi? – I was stunned and surprised to see a real, normal, living human. But that does not counter the fact that he pulled me out like some kind of fish!

\- Finished lying in this pink piss puddle?

"Uh...maybe?...I am...uhh... I'm quite surprised to see a normal living human in this shithole "I make a little pause, trying to find a good question to ask "Do you know what's happening here?"

"Nope, but since you can talk, unlike the other anime fanboys - sons of bitches - I'll interrogate you, like the good gentleman I am"

\- Interrogating? Me? Why? Wait... Anime boy... WHAT?!

he just smiled"He-he-he, that look on your face - priceless. Nah, I'm joking. Jokes aside, you really do look like one of the anime boys I saw earlier... well, almost like the others."

"...wha? Wait...you said "others?""

"Yep! You look like an elf in a BDSM suit with makeup around your eyes and hentai on your head. But unlike the others, you can talk and don't look like a low-budget walking dead on vacation."

Ok...now I am confused. Who is this man? Why is he here...nah, that's a terrible questions. I should have been happy for seeing at least someone more or less adequate and alive...What did he said again? I look almost like the others...and the way he describe it..."do I really look that ugly?"

He nodded his head."On the bright side, you can't possibly be uglier than my mother, ha-ha-ha..oh, good one. What? Don't give me that look, get up! I am getting out of here. With or without your confused octo face." He stopped holding my tentacle...hair and went on his way, out of the room.

Sigh. So much for conversation. I left the ink puddle and immediately went after the human, looking around. It looks like a technical tunnel with a number of storage/rest rooms. They stretched for many kilometers, and were quite a popular place for people like me, who just want to hide from working till death and enjoy their life... even if lasted only for a couple of hours. In these tight and dark corridors, with pipes, wires, and poorly working lighting, we were free to have whatever we what: sex, booze, moonshine, homemade weed/drugs and good old morphine from the medical supplies ...some even made burgers from rats a.k.a burat. Everyone loved this doubly harmful fast food. Why? It kills you a little bit faster, and compared with the nasty canned food, they fed us every fucking day - burat is fucking delicious. 12 of out 10. The best local food ever! But all of this has one fatal drawback: if you are caught – you are dead meat.

Today this place is quiet...too quiet. No talking, walking, muffled groans or sounds of working BBQ near the ventilation. He can't possibly have killed everyone here...can he? That thought terrifies me...what if he'd gone completely insane and murdered almost everyone here? That would explain the bodies...but what about me? What about those mutants? In any case we are going...somewhere, and my companion is silent as grave. Maybe I really should talk to him a bit more, try to get some answers.

-Ahem"You know, this place is...or was quite popular...I wonder what happened to people? Where is everyone?"

"They died...probably. Hm, now that you mention it, how can you possibly know about this "illegal business"?" He briefly looked at me" You are not human, you know..."

" I am a human! I work in this "lovely facility" as an Electrical Engineer in sector A...or I was, considering the situation and thing I saw for the last hour...or two. My name is.."

"Whatever you say, anime fanboy. But I'm not interested in your name or your"past". I need information..." He stopped and looked at me. That look in his eyes is a little bit creepy"...and a working CQ -80.

I shook my head with a faint smile "Yeah, we always used them to navigate in these tunnels...cus otherwise it's easy to get lost "sighed with sorrow "we are fucked."

"Are you starving to death? Deathly dehydrated? Have any bad or bleeding wounds? No? Then calm down, get your shit together and move on. You are no use for me if you're dead."

I didn't say anything in response. We continued to walk in complete silence, both of us immersed in our own thoughts.

Endless lines of pipes, wires, and concrete; empty rooms and no signs of life or possible directions to take. Nothing to talk about with this mean, unfamiliar asshole... It all continued for an hour or more, until we finally found an empty lift shaft. I looked inside it. The elevator was stuck at the top; a ladder is in its place - it looks okay. How (un)lucky we are...I pointed at the ladder. The man nodded in response and we started to climb up. Every floor was closed, so we entered the elevator from the emergency exit on the top. The door was open...and there was a nasty scene before our eyes: the gray, boring office corridors were covered with writing, written with a greenish oil paint that glowed in the dark. The walls, the floor...even the ceiling - the mutilated numbers covered it all. Not as terrifying as cafeteria or that "Traitors Hall"...but still, this place give me the creeps. The man, on the other hand... I think he doesn't even care. He slowly started walking forward, looking at all that with interest:

"Is this what you looking for?" I asked him, looking at the writing. Never saw that language.. yet somehow I understand it like... English. Like... I dunno, like something in my mind translate that for me. I started to read some of the notes:

"Subject #16 - Heart attack. Replace.

Subject # 25 – Brain damage. Improve the operation process.

Subject # 151 – Madness and attempted of suicide. Sanitize

Subject# 306 – Found his way to the Promised Land". Success at last

"Could you shut up for a sec!" He interrupted me, hissing: "I hear something"

And he was right. There were unknown, somewhat distant sounds..something between...struggling, punching, moaning and indistinct murmuring. Something is happening there and I don't know what to do.

The man briefly looked at me and immediately went ahead, interested. I followed him... a bad idea- a bad idea! It took us mere seconds before we reached the source of those sounds. And holy shit, this is something unexpected: two of those..twisted nonhumans I saw in that cursed hall were in the middle of beating the living shit out of each other. They fought violently, issuing hoarse synthetic sounds that only remotely resemble pain...if they can even feel it. Their bodies were covered in wounds, bleeding blue, artificial blood...it's everywhere! I do not know why they fight or how long their fighting lasts, but in mere seconds one of them grabbed an opponent's head and started rapidly smashing it against the wall with the squishy sound of flesh and brains turning into a blood-soaked chop...brutal! The struggles ended. The killer tossed the "headless" body aside and started walking away, twitching and convulsing, muttering something.

This whole time we were watching..silently, terrified and filled with with excitement...at least I was. There was always something deep..primal in humanity, something that led us to violence against each other.. that aroused the thirst to see the blood, pain, and suffering of others and root for it. This is probably what i feel now... a strange satisfaction, looking at this mess... blood everywhere..the body is still twitching, the wall cracked. And I catch myself thinking that I want more...I need more. Yes, let them kill each other in desperation...tear out guts, rip away throats...drown their pain and sorrow in blood of their friends and just before they die in agony, tell them, that Octavio says "hi"..He-he -he...

Wait. Wait-wait-wait....what was that just now? I've never had that kind of violent thoughts..brutal thoughts even..

"You have now" The man replied like he knew, what I was thinking about. I immediately looked at him, surprised and nervously responding

"What!? How the hell.."

"You're talking to yourself..never noticed that?"

"Oh...did I?" *Well..that's embarrassing.

he nodded "It really is. All this time. Every. Single. Word"

I turned away and started to walk down the corridor, blushing and covering my face with shame.

"Hey, don't feel bad about it. At least your endless monologue keeps me entertained" he smiled, but I didn't see anything funny about it. We in a middle of HUGE underground facility, all humans have disappeared, with some strange human like creatures lurking around and fucking each other for no good reason and...

"Speaking of fucking each other. That body we left behind is still warm and free of charge. Wanna go back and have some sweet relations with it? Or you afraid it will come back to life and top you ?" He started to laugh like a damn maniac...And I gotta admit, this guy is pissing me off! I looked at him with all my disrespect and disgust, wanting to send him into a pair of affectionate letters or even kill him...but what's the point? It's clear, that he is insane...or this is his own very dark and twisted humor. I just showed him my middle finger and continued to walk. And now i am thinking about that idea of his...rrrgh! I'll kill myself faster than I'd agree to do something like that.

We continued to advance through corridors and offices defaced by the all the same "notes". Luckily, i know this part of sector A..so now we were definitely close to the damn train station. I am hungry, tired and angry... and all I've got is a bunch of questions and that crazy asshole. He just follows me, ignoring my questions and trying to taunt me with sick jokes about my hair, sex or other topics I am not okay with. I don't even know what else to say about him or this situation. Today is probably worst day in my life. He tried to cheer me up a bit:

"Hey, don't look so grim, I'm actually trying to lighten up the mood a bit.."

"And I am actually trying to think here and understand what in the name of Great and powerful KING of Remixes and Squid Sisters Brainfucking DJ Octavio is GOING ON HERE! King please, I need some answers!...."

"You need to pay for "spoiling the fuck out of this story" DLC first....oh, wait. You don't have money in the first place! He-he."

"What?" I looked at him with a misunderstanding "Do..do you think this is some kind of game?!"

He made a smart face and "thought""...actually yea!"

One sigh and facepalm later "Oh my fucking god...you know what? I'm done talking with you, Asshole!"

"Thank you! It's nice to be called by your name, is not it....Richard?"

I stopped, shocked by the last words he said"How... the fuck do you know my name?" I said it with an understated tone, looking at his crazy smiling face with horror and fear. Just who the fuck is this man?! But he didn't reply to my question..he started his own little speech while walking forward and laughing: "There are a LOT of things and enemies you need to remember, if you want to get out of here alive with all 9 limbs intact. I'll help where i can, but you'll do the heavy lifting. Why? Because i said so. Btw, call me Asshole....agent Asshole. And don't ask why! I just fucking love that ridiculous name, he-he! And you, my terrified and totally sane friend...You'll understand why I know you..later. But for now I'll just call you Agent 8 for no good reason... HAVE I MADE MYSELF CLEAR!?" I just nodded nervously, unable to say something. "Good boy! Now, prossed on the double to the train...I bet that sea slug son of a bitch Test Fail Simulator is waiting for us...God I hate him."

From that point I was silent...this Agent Asshole, as he called himself, was unpredictable insane piece of immoral shit - Combo!...Who knows what he'll do next? Rape me? Kill me? Tell more stupid jokes? This day is getting worse and worse...and I would have came up with more nasty scenarios, but fortunately my thoughts diluted the distant sound of the approaching train. I rushed forward and saw it: we've reached the train station, finally! And there's the train opening its doors for me! But I don't see anyone inside it...or around it. And here I thought I'll be able to find someone and answer some of my questions...sigh. We proceeded into the train.

The doors automatically closed behind us and train began to move. Automated systems and a ghost train...totally not creepy at all. I sat down and threw back my head...I need a rest. I looked around. Light and air conditioning are normal, the seats are rubbed, but they are still comfortable to sit on. The man...agent Asshole, sat opposite me, putting his arms behind his head. He looked at the door at the end of the carriage and said: Don't mention me or look in my direction. Satan is coming...

Before I said anything in response, the doors opened with a...uh...tiny blue sea slug with a hat moving in our direction. He moved to our car and stopped:

"Test subject..you're 3 hours late. How is your condition?"

I gave the most logical answer possible "A-a...how t-talking Sea slug?! I...don't wanna know. Just explain this: what the fuck is going on here? Where is everyone? Why do I look like an octo...shit? Am I going insane? And who is this man?!" I pointed at agent a...where did he go?! He vanished! How?!

The Sea slug replied like it was nothing new to him."You are confused and have a lot of question... also, you managed to lose your ink tank. We'll replace it later. I am your humble conductor - C.Q. Cumber. We're in a gigantic underground research facility, operated by Kamabo Corporation.."

"I already know that, captain obvious! I'm working here!" I disapprovingly objected

"Your memory integration is better than expected, then. Please understand. You are the part of a test program. Don't worry about your appearance and possible physical changes..worry about your performance. We should reach the first Test Chamber in 2 hours. Go to the back of the Train. Your equipment and provision is waiting for you there."

He turned around and started to walk away, completely ignoring my questions, leaving me in complete confusion, mixed with fatigue and anger...not only I not get any answer to my question, but now I have even more of them! And I managed to lose that psycho... sigh... call it good news... I guess. I feel so exhausted from all this... my brain is begging for a bottle of booze, to shut up and stop thinking for a while..I just sit down on the nearest seat... I think I'll take a little nap. And all this bullshit will be gone like a bad dream. I threw back my head and closed my eyes... they feel so heavy... reality feels so hard and unreal... just let it fuck itself...

Observation suspended...

File 10K8V3_C1A1p2 is complete...

Awaiting new file....


	3. Part 3: Highway of confusion

Hollow ground, fog... and no horizon. I can't relax, can't forget what I just saw. Questions intrude my mind - I feel sick. Almost as if I'm drowning in my own thoughts. A distant light shines, revealing a figure - a silhouette. I can see it. It's...a woman. Beautiful, strong. An angel descended to Earth. She's slowly walking to me - I can see her lips moving, hear her distant voice, but I can't understand her. What is she saying? It sounds like I've heard it somewhere before. Is she trying to warn me about something? It sounds important... almost urgent. I try to tell her that I don't understand her. But instead, I'm speaking with an unknown voice and static... like an old, loud radio: "She is your optional objective. Eliminate her only if you get visual contact...we'll deal with her later anyway. Your primary goal is..." and it stops. The woman is right in front of me and she is angry. Was it about her? Why? "What did you do to deserve this? Why am I involved?" I try to ask her in confusion, but it's no use. She looks at me. Her beautiful, semi-closed green eyes are filled with disgust and hate. She slowly raises her weapon. The fog around us is turning into blazing flames. She aims directly at my head, her finger on the trigger and ready to fire. But before she shoots - she asks me... with my own voice: "How can such angel turn into this cold inked monster? What was the point of all this?" A single shot and I'm lying on the ground. Undead and defeated, burning alive, while looking at her as she slowly walks away, disappearing in the light of an emerging Black Sun....

I come to, lying on the cold floor of the train. Grrrh... my head! It's like someone filled it with alcohol, then smashed it into a wall, over and over and over... but I am as sober as I can possibly be! I start to stand up and see a drop of blood on the floor. Where did that come from? Hm... I can taste it with my mouth... there's blood on my lips! Ah shit, my nose is bleeding! I immediately wipe it off. I think it's has something to do with my pressure - craniocerebral pressure - if I am not mistaken... ugh. Anyway, what was that dream about? I can still hear that strange, confusing question... the other voice... but I can't turn them into something coherent. It's like a noise, a sound that means nothing. Sigh. I guess it's just another thing to be marked with a question mark, left to plague my mind. The train's not moving, and one door is open. I stepped out into a preparation room.

Reinforced bullet - and bullshit - proof glass, an equipment panel in the middle, a checkpoint with a card requirement to pass... a boxie! Wait... why am I so excited about this cardboard piece of rubbish? Never mind.

This sea slug... CQ Cumber is standing near the checkpoint, staring at me with his nonexistent eyes and waiting. And here's my man, agent Asshole himself, standing on the opposite side, leaning against a wall. He just points at the box. "Don't mind me. I'll keep radio contact with you... just grab your gear, listen to whatever this gloving bug has to tell you, and get the job done!" I don't respond and open the box instead. There's some kind of watch, a new backpack, a CQ 80 and a card. Now we're talking! While I was busy fitting on my new goods, Sea Slug gave me his instructions. "Your goal is to go throw all checkpoints and eliminate any enemy resistance along the way."

I stopped for a second and looked at him. "Enemy...resistance? What kind of enemies? And how do I supposed to defeat them!? By telling bad puns?"

"Step on the middle panel and choose your weapon..."

"...via holographic dispenser. Yeeeah... I remember this tech. One time the boys and I spent days trying to repair one... but hey!" I shrugged. "It can create stuff by bending the sunlight spectrum... or something along the lines. Science!... Kinda."

I finish "dressing up" and stepped into the equipment punnel. It immediately closed up around me, leaving me in a slowly spinning cylinder with scanners and a holo interface, showing me only one option: some kind of Splattershot with a Splat Bomb. Er... this... looks exactly like a kids toy. And let me guess, its doesn't shoot deadly bullets, burning plasma or flaming lava... ah well. I press the button and voila! I have a kid gun for adults. I hope it shoots something actually dangerous, like acid or flames. Why not give it a spin? There's a dummy standing nearby. I raise the gun, point it at the target and pull the trigger. Frankly, it's rather disappointing. This weapon is so light, I can use it with one hand. It's got no recoil, no power, no oomph... and it shoots pink ink - yep, a weapon for kids. I can't help but sigh. Is this some kind of sick joke? Where are the real guns?! I could use a LGN 2v magma shotgun right now. Damn, I've always liked that gun. 3 spinning barrels, all of which shoot multiple shards of molten metal! And I haven't even started on the customization options... ugh, why didn't I join the military when I had the chance?! Aaargh, I'm wasting my time standing here and thinking about the gun I never got to hold! I shake my head, walk up to the checkpoint doors and activate them with my new card. The doors open. Let the testing begin. A short walkway, then the entrance of a giant sphere. We used them to generate the environment for various tests and simulations... sigh, repairing them is one hell of a job. I step inside.

The area was some kind of artificial forest with Inflatable rubber trees and grass..from the same material. I raise my "gun" with both hands and start slowly moving forward, looking around. There's no music, no extraneous noise, only the sound of my breath harmonizing with my shoes slapping against the floor. The CQ-80 suddenly starts transmitting audio. The communicator's on, and I can hear that damn "agent".

"You won't believe what I found! 50 terabytes of NSFW, memes and Half Life 'more than two, less than four;! Ha-ha...ah, bloody FUCK! IT'S VR ONLY!" There's the sound of a distant rage quiet and quite a bit of screaming, most of it being some strong profanity that I can barely make out. Not that I'd want to.

"Look...do you have anything better to talk about, like... I dunno... some actually useful advice? Your screaming is not helping here, asshole."

He takes a deep breath. "Yes..yes...Count to 4. inhale. count to 4. Exhale. Alright."

"Why, thank you. That was very helpful."

"That was for myself, you fish maggot! Just relax, look at your watches. They show your current ink supply. It won't refill itself so don't waste it. And... hold on for a sec." He switches to talking with that CQ Cumber sea slug thing. Ah, to hell with them! I can't figure out what they're talking about anyway. Besides, I've got this "test" to finish. I fire a couple times, remembering that corridor with ink and the metal fence. Yeah... this "Splattershot"'s definitely not designed for long-range combat. Definitely short-range to medium at max. And it looks like this gun shoots with the same kind of strange ink - my leg is submerged when I try to step in it. Damn, that stuff is weird! On the other hand, I think it's for the best - I can use it to hide, heal or go throw something... maybe even "refill" this so called ink supply. I'd like to ask more about that later, and save some ink for now.

I reach the first checkpoint and activate it. It looks just like the one in the preparation room - a small, circle bathtub filled with ink. I quickly submerged in it and took a look at my watch. I don't even know how, but I can perfectly see them while in here. The ink supply quickly refiled itself, reaching its max in a few seconds...well, there wasn't much missing in the first place. Checkpoints refill ink - noted. I climb out until I'm waist-high, with weapon at the ready. The coast seems clear, but I can hear distant noises... I'm not alone. I turn my CQ 80 off so not to get distracted by Asshole, then I emerge completely, then rapidly keep moving forward, from tree to tree, using each as cover. Focus, and listen. Keep your eyes peeled. Remember how you used to play strikeball. Deep inhale. Slow exhale. Swim through the ink, and be ready to toss splat bombs as a distraction or smoke them out their position and rush till they're splatted. There's no cover fire from chargers, I've gotta flank alone. Rrgh...what in the name of the Zapfish am I thinking about?! Cover, distractions... I'm not a soldier! I'm a 40 year-old nerd with a paint gun! I abandoned that "from cover to cover" bullshit and went straight for the next checkpoint. Or that is what I wanted to do. Some strange looking thing just came out of nowhere with a fading electric sound and digital pixels. I've seen it before... in the Traitors' Hall... in that corridor outside the offices. This is one of those mutants...but...what IS it doing here?! It has the same weapon as mine. His... her... its movement is unnatural. It's twitchig like it's forced to move... almost like a zombie. It's shaking, without any expression, its eyes unfocused, and its mouth is slowly bleeding with something blue... probably blood. Hold on a second... isn't that supposed to be ene-AHHRRGH! Sudden pain. Hoarse, deep inhales and coughing. I look at my body, shocked and terrified. It happened so quickly, I can feel my body torn from the inside like a pressure ball. My sight is fading rapidly... and I fall into darkness.

Moments later, I'm rising from the ink, the scream of a madman - my own screaming - sounding around me. Panicked, i look around in terror, in confustion. What?! How?! Where?! Aaaaaaaa! What the fuck was that?!

"You died, slowpoke! And welcome back to land of living, you lucky tentacle motherfucker!" My CQ-80, active again, rings with the voice of Agent Asshole.

It only takes a moment for its meaning to sink in.

"I DIED?!THAT'S... H-h...HOW THE...HOW THE ACTUAL FUCK AM I STILL ALIVE THEN?! HOW DID THAT THING KILL ME?! This is just a dream, isn't it? THIS IS JUST A BAD DREAM!!!!" I take a deep breath. "Keep it cool, keep it coool, don't panic. You just have to wake up and this is all be over...right? RIGHT?!"

"Jeez...stop fucking screaming, you banshee! You died, you respawned, and now you live again. How? I dunno... magic! A wizard did it! Deal with it! Now, want my advice?"

I look down at my hands - they're clean, no sight of that cerulean stuff that tore me apart. "I... was killed by paint." My voice is barely a whisper by now.

"DO YOU WANT MY FUCKNIG ADVICE OR NOT?!" His scream snaps me out of my thoughts.

"What?! Yes! Yes, please ...just tell me everything."

"Finally. First: don't waste your time examining the enemy, don't feel sorry for them or they'll end your life! It's the second time you fucked up like that. Second! Your respawns are limited. So if I were you, I would be careful about dying. Third! Ink the shit out of everything and swim through it like the fucking octopus you are! Don't give me that shit about limited ink! Just submerge and refill it, you blithering idiot!"

"Jeez. Thanks, I guess?"

"YOU'RE GODDAMN WELCOME! HELPING IDIOTS LIKE YOU IS THE SECOND WORST THING IN THE WORLD! Ahem... now, please do us a favor and kill that anime fanboy, you son of a bitch!"

I look at myself again. This disgusting uniform this magenta ink. Sighing, I switch my view to the distant target... my twitching "killer". Part of me is screaming in panic, not knowing what just happened and what to do about it. Well, my other part wants revenge, and it's too god damn confident about it. I check my useless gun, jump out the checkpoint and focus on the goal. If that zombie shit kills me again... mark my goddamn words - I will beat the living crap out of it until it's dead on the floor. I start moving forward, gun at the ready. It should be near... ah, there you go! It's standing in the same place as before - probably waiting for me. But this time, I know what to do. I immediately open fire and dash away, dodging its attack. That thing may be standing like dummy, yet half my shots aren't even hitting it! To make it worse, it's not dying as easily as I did! Fuck! Fuuuuck! I continue moving, changing my position, and keep up a steady assault. Argh, how does that thing even understand that I'm shooting at it?! It's just slowly walking in my general direction and shooting, even though I'm clearly out of its range. I reflexively throw a pink grenade right at its feet. BOOM! Pink ink covers its body, halting all movement. Good. Now I can finish you off, you ugly, mutant thing. I raise my gun, pull the trigger and... click. Click. Rapid clicking. What? It's not shooting?! Fuck. I quickly check the watches and of fucking course I'm out of ammo... ink... inkmo... whatever! I'm out of it! I run back to the checkpoint as fast as i can, constantly falling into puddles, and turning back in fear. Hey, I don't want to be shot in the back! Just a couple more seconds and god damn. I feel huge relief climbing back into that warm, refreshing bath of ink like a scared kitten. Yes. It may seem ridiculous and stupid, but this is my little safe zone, my fortress of... me. I popped out with my gun, aiming, but there's no one to shoot at. But i'm not stupid. It can show up any second now, and it WILL try to kill me, just you wait!

I spend 5 minutes just sitting and aiming like they were taught in the trenches, waiting for the enemy. It didn't show up. Perhaps my pathetic emotional revenge/assassination insulted it... or did I actually kill it? Am I wasting my time, waiting for no one to show up? Both cases kinda suck. Either I'm stupid, or I'm stupid AND blind... now is the worst time for my belly to arrogantly remind me of my hunger. Yes, stomach, me want food. Me wait, me complete test, me gets nom- nom, I thought, giggling to myself. It would be funny if my organs were sentient, heh. Na, that would be ridiculous. On the other hand there was a Fallout game....Hold oh a sec!... I can refill ink anywhere I can!...and I completely forgot about it while dealing with that prick!? AARGH! I'm such an idiot! I just want to say to myself: "The burning you feel..it is shame." Such a good quote. Welp, I'm not planning to sit here all day and starve to death, so I got out with a full ink supply at the ready and slowly proceeded to the goal... again. The enemy is gone, I guess, but the passage is covered in blue-green ink...or oil, i can't really tell the difference. Maybe I'm just being paranoid, but I can't shake the feeling that stepping into this stuff is NOT a good idea. No, it's just my useless paranoia; contact with paint can't be harmful until you try to breathe it for some time. Ah, to fuck with it!! YOLO! I step into that stuff... but instead of swallowing my leg it did something a little different.

"ffffffaaAAAAaaa-ha-ha-hack! IT BURNS! It burns!.... through MY shoes!"God fucking..."PAIN! RRRGHAAAaaaa, can't pull my leg out!! That....was..a BAD IDEA!! Bad..."

A sudden explosion of pink ink pushes me away and frees up my leg. Breathing heavily, I close my eyes in shock. Count to 4. Inhale. Count to 4. Exhale. Another deep inhale and slow sigh. Don't panic..it's just paint. Paint and mutants trying to kill you in an abandoned post apocalyptic underground hell...he-he...I open my eyes and look at my leg - it's perfectly fine! And what about that killing green shit? Ah, I see. Looks like while I was dying in panic, one that "splatbombs" detached and detonated. Guess I got lucky there. I stand up and start to ink the ground with the weapon, making a safe passage for me...and it works! I notice that my ink supply is refilling while I'm standing in my ink... I keep forgetting about that.

I reach the last checkpoint and the exit gate without any new encounters with that mutant or this acid ink... yea, I can't come up with a better name for that shit. The gate opens, playing pre-recorded message from the announcement system: "All goals achieved. Test passed." At least now I don't need to walk through this jungle with all that ink and all those trees.

The only way back is to walk through the catwalk ahead. There are a lot of windows, but not much to look at: the sphere I just left, the endless black abyss below us...well, not exactly. If I recall correctly, this place were a giant salt mine for some time. And then this big hollow space was used to build this all this testing areas. 8 per shaft, 10 mines - that means 80 tests total. Portal can be one hell of a inspiration, but we took it two steps farther: One sphere can contain up to 3 test chambers at the same time - we have holographic tech. Hm... I stopped, looking down at the abyss. Maybe all this just a part of the test. And I'm in the test chamber testing some kind of VR simulation? No. No, we don't have that kind of technology... but then what kind of experiment is that supposed to be then? I'm thinking too much. So instead of wasting my time and energy looking at nothing, or thinking to the point of insanity, I just continued to walk until I reached the exit room. There was a holographic dispenser - it's quite obvious why that's there. I step on it and let it take my useless gun away. And then...what's this? It looks like a small plastic toy. I carefully inspect it. Yep, it really looks like a little toy for kids. I...I'll just take it as little gift. I've got enough questions in my head either way. Sigh, good thing the train is still here and waiting. I walk inside and look around. Sea slug - check. Asshole watching porn - check. Smell of food - che....food? Sniff. FOOD! I would kill for a snack right now! Sniff. I can smell you... over there! I rush to the door into the next car. The door quickly opens and HOLY MOTHER OF MY PRIMARY NEEDS!

*1 hour later*

Ohh...I don't think my stomach can take any more of it. Meat, buckwheat, sushi. We never had that many high quality snacks here back then. 'Twas a fucking provision genocide, he-ehe. Yep, let them complain, I'm refueled, happy, and not going to give a shit about portions of food and their distribution. Huh, now to think of it, when was the last time I had a meal? I lifted my head to the ceiling, thinking. Uhhhgh...when? When... when... when? Nothing comes to mind. Maybe I forgot. Strange. I also can't remember what happened yesterday...and the day before that. I put a hand to my forehead, sighing. Back to the reality of unknown and its super confusing bullshit. And I'm managing to keep my shit together. Miracle by my standards.

I slowly move to the main carriage and sit on the nearest seat. The train wouldn't reach the next station for half an hour, no less.

"Sea Slug, where are we going?" I asked with little to no excitement about what's waiting for me up ahead.

"C.Q. Cumber. Please call me by my name. And we are currently traveling to line A, test chamber 2. Did you enjoy your meal?"

I just give him a thumbs up. Don't really wanna continue this conversation with this sentient abomination. I don't even ask HOW that thing existing is possible. And that thing is "walking" away - more like sliding away. Oh, one last thing.

"Agent, мать твою в сраку, Asshole!" After insulting him in two languages, I turned my attention to the "busy" passenger. "Could you stop disrespecting me and stop watching porn with no sound?!"

"And then what I supposed to do? Polish your tiny sausage? Clean up your black hole? No? Then shut the fuck up and keep your "oh senpai" tentacle anime bullshit away from my sacred mute porn! Or I'll eat your tentacles...they look so tasty."

"Oh no you don't!" I said as menacingly as I could, raising my fists."Leave my strange hair alone!"

"You are pretty damn hilarious, little octo Limp dick"

"ЧЕГО БЛЯТЬ?" - I roared in pure Russian anger at such an insult. "Why I never! No I am not into that stuff, you perve! Be kind and politely go fuck yourself!"

"Ha-ha-ha-a! You should see your face! Ha-ha, ohho-ho...your expression are killing me, bad boy!"

"I can give you more thaN a couple of laughs! Hint: It involves your face and my fist."

"Oh! Oh master, I fucked up. Oh master I deserve a punishment!" Oh god, he's literally crawling to me, acting as a some kind of BDSm slave! I didn't sign up for this shit! And he keeps doing that!!

"Splat da-a fucking away for me, y-yyou insane inkli...wait. I mean... what the mother fucking the fuck is wrong with me?! JACKASS!"

The train slowed abruptly sending me to the floor. Fuck..augh. A power surge turned off the lights for a moment. One, two, three. Here we go, the lights are back o....hold on. I'm looking around, trying to find that son of a crazy bitch to organize a meeting between his face and my foot - but he's gone! Again?! Oh come on! This is unfair! He gets to annoy me AND be practically unharmable! Why are we stopping anyway?!

I cautiously got off the train and saw... of course. I sighed. Sea Slug is back.

"Let me guess: tests?"

"Absolutely right, test subject. This time, the holographic dispenser is not operational. For this test all you need is agility, speed and an ability to think 'on the fly' as they say."

"I don't really...ok, just give a better explanation and be done with it. And where is that Asshole?"

"Pardon me, who?"

I turn to him in surprise. "Agent asshole. That human pidor with no respect to others, no?"

The sea slug didn't reply. I could practically feel the awkwardness intensifying.

"Riiiight....never mind. I'll just go throw the doors, achieve the questionable goal of your tests, and get the hell outta here. Like, seriously, what are you testing here? I'm not even asking questions like 'WTF ARE YOU'! Or 'What the fuck is wrong with me'!"

There was a pause as the sea slug thought for a moment. "Not me. Not now. I'm just doing my job and I would highly recommend for you to do the same. All your questions will be answered once you reach the Promised Land. Now go."

I decide not to waste my time with more questions and opened the checkpoint doors, moving into the next testing sphere and thinking. Promised Land. It's the second time I've encountered this word, and I know that it's something very important. Something I know or knew. Yet my brain refuses to remember it for whatever reason. Fucking gray matter treacherous muscle in a bone jar! Work, damn it! Some people say that the brain is a biological supercomputer with potential we have yet to unlock. If that's the true, I need a tech expert, some diagnostics and probably exorcists, 'cause having a living tentacles instead of hair, periodically talking about things I don't even understand, interacting with paint and DYING from it is NOT OKAY!

Well...I'm here. The second test chamber. Looks like a platformer like Mario or something. Hm. Multiple floating platforms of different size and varying obstacles placed on them. I slowly walk up to some kind of ink pad, analyzing the situation. What's there to analyze? They want me to...

"They want you to run like an old hungry nigga on the run for a hot chicken in KFC, muha-ha!" Well, there goes my good mood. Not that there was much of one in the first place.

"And our mysterious agent Asshole is interrupting me via CQ-80 yet again. What do you want, kozel?"

"I'm not a beer!"

"Nope, but you are a racist!"

"Ahh! I see. So you need some tolerance so they won't drown your little bit of poetry in an ocean of shit? Ok boss. Ape then!"

I looked at my CQ 80, taking a sec to come up with a reply. :At this rate I'll be the one who'll drown you in ocean of shit. Racism!"

"Ffffff...fine. Black man."

I shake my head with a faint smile "Na-ah. Try again."

"O-o-oooooh come on!!!" Now he's pissed off. My little revenge for that moment in the train is in effect. "RRGH. FINE! Free man of a GREAT and powerful America with a black skin tone! Are you happy?!"

I nod with a smirk. "That's better."

"I was about to give you some advice about that test, but you know what? Fuck you, figure it out by yourself."

That was a really helpful conversation. Not. Enough distractions! I'm approaching so kind of ink pad. Well, it looks like a small ink vortex. And there is no other way to get to the other side, so... I crouch next to this thing and - really carefully - poke it with a finger. I ended up with a rather interesting reaction. My finger gets itself covered in ink and is now trying to suck itself into this vortex along with the rest of my hand. I do not want to crawl into ink toilets... or whatever this soul-sucking thing is. But I don't see any other options, so, with my eyes closed, I reach my hand deeper into that -WHOA-whoa-whoa! Hold my fucking horses! That shit is consuming my entire body like I down a wineglass of vodka! And I am not vodka! I try to stand up and pull myself out, but the suction is too damn strong!

Before I even realise what just happened, it launches me in the direction of the nearest platform like a cannonball. My initial fear and shock immediately changed into a burst of adrenaline, a feeling of joy and an absurdly large amount of screaming: "Whaat da faaaaa-HA-HA-HA-AAA!!!FLY-Y-YING! I. AM. FLYI-" Boom! That was a short, but HECKIN' fun flight. Too bad it ended with my body crashing into the ground, leaving an ink puddle from which I immediately got up from. I have no idea what that flying was, but I want to do it again!

A little ding switches my attention to my watches. Oh no. The test has already started and I don't have much time left! I dash forward, beginning to run as fast as I possibly can. This area is like a maze of cubes, all of them different sizes with pointing arrows showing where I should go. Run, turn there, turn here, jump over that block. Steady your breath, focus your eyes and keep that angry grin on your face. I never liked sports, and now here I am, running like a lab rat! Slide! Rghaa, that was too close. One must be careful when runni- and I slam straight into a fence. I fall on my back. My head screams at me in pain, shrieking in my ears, worsening my blurry vision - ooohh, fuck. I think I'm having a concussion. I try to sit down and look around. I can barely see shit.

"Who...put the fu---king fence over here?!" I point at the metal fence that kicked my ass, despite being an inanimate object. Meanwhile the watches continue their countdown. The voice of C.Q. Cumber began ringing from my CQ-80.

"9. 8.7..."

"What a shame," I groan.

"6.5.4."

"It's my destiny to fail the important tasks..."

"3.2.1.."

I moan in pain.

"0. You ran out of time. Test failed."

In confusion, I didn't even notice the beeping sound and the explosion of green ink right behind me. Everything faded out for a second, before I came to in the beginning of the test track in the checkpoint ink bath. My confusion and pain is fading away. And the watches starting to count down again. Ah, perfect! Absolutely bloody perfect! I didn't even notice that I died and they're already forcing me to push forward! God damn you all!

And now I'm on the run once again. This time, I'm trying my best to look where I'm going and not fuck up like last time. Jump! It's kinda ironic. I was dreaming about running away from this boring life in the underground, to forget all my troubles and have fun. And now I am literally running like Usain Bolt in the Box maze, controlled by that damn sea slug! Ah, fuck. Dead end! Turn back and keep running like some kind of pig from hell! I don't care if this is the right way to keep going or if I'm cheating, but I'm gonna use these boxes to climb up. If you can't go through the obstacle, just go around it. And here is a fun surprise - there was a damn checkpoint on the top of that maze this whole time! The arrows were leading me into a dead end the entire time! My watches notified me with "goo̕d news" this time - additional time has been added to the clock, but there is no time to breathe and plan my next move. I have no choice but to keep pushing forward, jumping from one small floating platform to another. There is no room for mistakes. Either I die or run out of time A͟ND͠ die!

A couple more jumps and I'm landing near a second checkpoint, activating it, my watches notifying me about the additional time I go͘t̷. And now I have a new maze to deal with! With the goddamn entrance that I just passed and...Ne nu Tvou mat! Instead of boxes, now there are transparent walls with a roof of the same material! I̴҉ ̶͠ḑ͢o̢̕͞n'͟t̴ ͘͡h̶a͏v̢͟͢e͏͟ time to get lost in that sinuous corridor of "fuck your perception"! Ah, I have an idea - just ram into it - it's just glass! I charge in and crash into the wall with all my momentum. And of course i͏t ̨didn͡'t̨ w̸or͏k͞. Ggggaar! What's the point of testing here anyway?! I proceed deeper into that shitty maze, knowing that I'll probably get lost there and face death once again. But suddenly, an announcement alert pauses the countdown. A sy͝n̡t̡h̸e̷tic voice̡ ͝s̢tąrts t͢o speak: U.A.C.U. speaking. Test subject #10_0008_V3. You are suspended from completing Test Chamber 2 of lane A and taking any further attempt to complete other tests until you report to the Central Hub for a private conversation. Science is waiting. And for any "members" of this s̷̨o̸҉͝͡ ̷̕-c̴͞҉a̶l̕҉̨l͜҉̛e̸̢d͘͟͝ ̢̡͡T̛̛͘r҉a̴̛͘̕͞i̸̛͢͞t̶̨͞͏o̵r͜͝s̴͜ ̵͞H̵̶̡͟a̵̕l̷l̷̢ whom are listening right now... [contemporary speech mode enabled] GO FUCK YOURSELF, YOU USELESS IMMORTAL M̠̜̟͟͟ͅE͔͕̺͙͚̥ͅA̲T̻̻̳̙̖̘͓ͅB̥̹͖̥̪͕̼A̴̲̦̻̯͔̤̖͈ͅG̘͚̥̮̜̼͡S͕̤̗̼͈̳̕ ̣O̤F̡̤̝̰̹͟͜ ͢҉̛̦̟̖̻͍̤̹ ̪͍̪͔͙͢ͅI̴͉̜̘̬͚̪N̶̛̙̞̪͍̥̬̟K̷̶͈͖!̡̻̺̙͢ [contemporary speech mode disabled] That is all.

Ok...what was that? First they want me to do their tests and now they stop me from doing that?! Boze moi, why is everything is so confusing? M̠͖̻̝̲͘y͢҉̼̺̲ ̴̪̩͉͝b̸͍͎̟̺̩o̹̺͖̭̖͔̺ͅḏ̡̱͓͓̠̘̗̹̘͘y͠͡ͅͅ,̻̗̖̞̫̱̮͇̪͠͡ ̸͔͍̳̺t͍̼̟̖̳̠͜ͅͅẖ̴̶̰͙͕͎̻̖͉e͡͏̨͚̞͔̦̯̫ ҉̻̜̱̻͚p̬̞͖͚̺̥͚͝e̝͠͠ơ̶̮̙̺͇̪̣͖͍p̵̵͔͉͈̻̣͟ļ̛̗̱̘̳͟e̵̷̡̦̰͈̫̤̼ ̤̘̦͇̕͠a̞̦̳͎̭͠ͅr̝̳̠̳͔̜̞o̱͖͘u̙̺̞͠n҉̱̮̣͇̗d͍̝̬̝͜ͅ,̸̮̤ ̟̳̥͈̯͙̝ͅt̛̤̯̳͈̬͖̞̝̠h̨̛̫̱͕͎͢e҉̮͈̙̤̭͟s̠̤͖̕e͉̝̟̞͙̦͚̙̫͝ ̸̤t̗͇̪̼̳e̷̷͉͕̟̹̺̙͚͍s͎̞̺̣͢͝t̷̗̜̕s͔͉͟ ̭͔̺͇̮̼̺͖.̴̴̶͎̤.̨͍̯͈͖͉͎̺͡ ͔̪̻̯͝m̢̰̜̘̼͍̤y̲̟̲͕̘ ̴͓̦̼͎͖̜̪̬͜m̵̞̹̥̹͖͙e̡̞̱̟̞̠̼͖͟ͅm̷̧̪̰̜̠̖̻̺̖o̧͚ŗ̱̜͙̘̻͟y̶̡͚͎̬̪͎̪͞ͅ.̸͇̠̣̯̰̲͎͝...

...This has to be a real ^͞҉%͞$͢@̵͠@̶͘!͡№"̛͜͞%̛҉̧;̡̛:̷̛͢;...

Error.

....:͏͍͇͉̺̯:͏̯̖̻̝̙̺̘̺̮͔̟̯̪̪͜͝%̴̰͉̰͎͢ͅ;̢̛̙͇̲̬̭͔͎̼͖̜̙̖̳̮̯̕͞ͅ4̸̛̖̺̤͓͓̗̜̖̬͓̹̰̙̠̝͈̯͡@͏̵̱͇͚͇͓͕͔̫͓͜͝%͝͏̕҉̻͕̪̱̣͈̞̭̬͖͎͚̳̤͍͚̠͠ͅ&̸̸̜͉̤̗̥͙̯̪̣͞͡ͅH̡̳̙̦̥̪͔͓̤̤̲̗̗͎:̵͘҉̯̥̪͓̻͕͚̺̘͇̼̰̣̟͎͎"҉̵̠̣̼̪^̶̻͓͙̯%͟҉̧̗͕̝̘̺̟͕̪̳̖̞̣̱^̫͎̖͉͖͕̜̕^̴̷͠͏̬̤̻̟̝̻̮̝̼̠̘̪͔*̧̼̞̥̻̱̬̲̭̜̦̱̝̰̭̥͘͜T͏͓̳̥̦̠̖̲̖͙̯͓̬͙̞̺͜ͅ ͏̡̡̱̭̠̗̫̱̖̙͇̫͓̹̰͓͜+̸̢͕̫̘͉͇̮͈̙̜͚͎̥̫̗̦̣͉͜͜͠ͅ+͏̬̻̼̳̯͇͍͓͔̣̼͡ͅ....

Error. File corruption detected.

Further Observation imposible.

Analyzing the collected Data...

Awaiting arrival of test subject for communication check and restarting the observation....

Ending file 10K8V3_C1A1p3...

Preparing file 10K8V3_C1A2....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading the act 1 of Fragmented Echoes. Stay tuned for act 2: Errors in memory

**Author's Note:**

> This..is the beginning of a big and long story with no happy ending. Madness, confusion, bad jokes, ugly and unplesent stuff...all this awaits you in this dark version of Octo Expantion.  
> Also wanted to say HUGE thank you to the TheChocoChicken2304 from Deviant Art(https://www.deviantart.com/thechocochicken2304). He is the one, who inspired me for this, he is my editor...he is the reason, why im here, doing this.  
> 


End file.
